The Dangers of Firewhisky
by Boogum
Summary: In which Ginny is confused, Draco Malfoy imitates a naked Greek statue, and much Firewhisky is consumed.


I swore to myself that I wouldn't write another challenge response until I got the next chapter of _Grey_ updated. Um, yeah . . . that didn't work.

In any case, this is a response to a challenge at _**The DG Forum**_, in which we were asked to write a one-shot featuring Ginny waking up to find Draco lying next to her in her bed – bonus points if the two are drunk and Harry or Ron catch them in bed together. I decided to combine my response with the 'Drink' drabble from my _World in Snippets_ collection – which is why the first part may look familiar to some of you.

Just as a general disclaimer, it is well past midnight, I'm not thinking clearly, and it's very possible I may have written some monster that makes no sense to anyone but me. Oh well. At least I wrote something . . .

* * *

**The Dangers of Firewhisky**

Draco slammed his empty shot glass down on the table. "Another!"

Hannah made a disapproving noise at the back of her throat but still placed a new shot of Firewhisky before him. Ginny scowled and gestured for her friend to give her another shot as well.

"Really, you two," Hannah scolded, "this is getting ridiculous. You're going to make yourselves sick."

"I'm not losing to Malfoy!" Ginny growled, and snatched up her new glass. She downed it in one gulp and then gave a smug look at the blond opposite her. "That makes six."

"I'm on seven."

Ginny narrowed her eyes – at least as much as she could without going cross-eyed – and called for more shots. Three empty cups later, she was looking more muddled than ever.

"Had enough yet, Malfoy?" she taunted, swaying unsteadily on her stool.

"You wish, Weasley," the blond slurred, though it must be noted that his face was a bit green.

"I think he's going to be sick," Luna observed calmly.

"Come on, Draco," Blaise said encouragingly, clapping a hand on his friend's shoulder. "I've got six Galleons on you that you'll beat Weasley."

Draco's hand trembled as he reached for the next shot. Everyone held their breath, and then there was a loud thump from behind them. Ginny had gone unconscious.

"Oh, dear," Luna remarked.

"YES!" Blaise cried, shoving a fist in the air.

Draco gave a rather drunken smirk. "Looks like I w-o—"

His eyes suddenly unfocussed, and then he also keeled backwards off his chair.

Blaise and Luna looked at each other. Suddenly, an evil grin spread across Blaise's features.

"I have an idea . . ."

**X**

Ginny groaned as she rolled over in the bed. Her head was pounding, but that was nothing to the way her stomach was trying to up-heave itself.

Her fingers suddenly came in contact with bare skin. She opened one eye and found herself staring at a very naked Draco Malfoy. Her eyes widened, and then she glanced down and was horrified to see that she was also wearing no clothes.

That was when she screamed.

Instantly, the blond's eyes snapped open, and he sat up with a jerk, his hand colliding against her breast as he struggled to balance himself. Ginny screamed even more, and would have kept on screaming were it not for Draco clamping a hand over her mouth, muffling the awful screeching.

"For Merlin's sake, woman, _shut up_!" he yelled hoarsely, only to wince at the sound of his own raised voice.

Ginny glared at him, her cheeks burning in a mixture of embarrassment and anger. She would have liked to have wrapped a sheet around her body to hide her nakedness, but there didn't seem to be any at hand. In fact, most of the blankets were rumpled into a twisted snake-like thing at the end of the bed. She deliberately ignored the sight of her knickers hanging off one of the bed knobs – and not just because they were the hideous hot-pink ones she wore only when she knew no man was ever going to see them.

"Where the hell am I?" Draco muttered, wrinkling his brow as he glanced around the bedroom. His frown deepened when he saw the way his clothes had been tossed haphazardly around the room. And was that his tie dangling from the lightshade on the ceiling?

It was then that the blond finally seemed to register that he was naked, in a bed, next to an equally naked woman – and that woman just happened to be Ginny Weasley. He swore under his breath. Ginny wrenched his hand away from her mouth, her own expression far from pleased.

"What are you doing in my bed?" she hissed. "And why are we—we—"

"Naked?" Draco supplied, relaxing more now that he had come to terms with the situation.

"Yes," she gritted out.

Draco shrugged and leant back against the pillows, stretching out his perfectly sculpted (and naked, let's not forget naked!) body like a cat in the sun. "I don't know, Weasley, but I'd feel much better if you ceased trying to impersonate a banshee." He winced again and placed a hand over his eyes. "My head is killing me."

Ginny tried her best to ignore the expanse of bared Malfoy before her. Honestly, didn't he have any decency? She did not want to see that; she did not even want to think that that _thing_ had been inside her. And she most definitely did not find him attractive. No, not that pasty-fleshed creature.

Oh, bother. Why couldn't she keep her eyes on his face?

"You mean you don't remember anything from last night?" she asked a little desperately, while clutching an arm to her breasts in an attempt to give herself some semblance of modesty.

"I thought I just made that obvious," he drawled, lifting his hand away from his face to give her a wry look. "Really, Weasley, if you're just going to ask me stupid questions, you can leave."

"Excuse me, but this is _my_ room!" she exploded.

They both groaned in unison at the shrillness of her voice.

"You see," Draco growled, glaring at her now, "that is why you should just shut up. Honestly, woman, what decibel is your voice?"

Ginny's eyes flashed. "Well, if you weren't such an arrogant git, I wouldn't get angry with you."

"Weasley, even if I was a saint, you would still get angry at me. It's in your nature to get angry at everyone. You're a shrew: a screaming, ranting, raving shrew." He sighed and placed his arm back over his eyes. "Merlin knows why I decided to shag you. I doubt the sex was even worth it."

"Why you little—"

A hand was suddenly clamped back over her mouth. She swallowed, meeting his cold grey eyes.

"If you scream at me again, Weasley, I swear I will knock you out with this pillow."

Ginny thought he actually looked serious and decided, most wisely, that perhaps it would be best not to provoke the blond any further. He gave her one final look of warning and then removed his hand, a scowl still twisting his mouth.

"Gods, woman," he muttered, relaxing again, "you'd think you were a glutton for punishment with the way you're behaving – and don't try and tell me you don't feel as horrid as I do." He rubbed his temples. "What were we drinking last night?"

"Firewhisky," Ginny sighed. "That much I do remember."

"Well, that explains the awful hangover."

Ginny made a noncommittal noise and reached back to grab the sheet at the end of the bed, wrapping it securely around her body. Draco may like to sprawl out naked like some _Playwitch_ model, but she was feeling acutely embarrassed that she was still sitting there in nothing but her skin.

She sighed, wondering what on earth she was supposed to do now. Draco Malfoy was reclining beside her on the bed without a stitch of clothing to his body, it was very probable that they had sex last night, and neither of them could remember a thing – except that there had been rather a lot of Firewhisky consumed.

"What happened last night?" Ginny mused aloud, trying to struggle through her clouded thoughts for some kind of clarification.

She vaguely remembered entering _The Three Broomsticks_ with Luna for a "girls' night out" at the pub. But then something else had happened . . . Blaise had started chatting to them, and then – and then Draco had come over to talk to Blaise, and he'd called her something – she couldn't remember what it was now, but it had made her angry. And then she'd challenged the blond to a—

"Drinking game," Ginny breathed, groaning at the sheer stupidity of her behaviour. "We were playing a drinking game."

Draco looked at her with interest. "Oh, was that it?"

She nodded. "I remember now. Hannah was fussing at us because we were drinking so much, and Blaise and Luna were cheering us on, only—" her lips pulled into a frown "—only I can't remember what happened after that. I don't even know who won."

"I did, of course," Draco responded as if it were a simple matter-of-fact.

Ginny's eyes narrowed. "You don't know that. For all you know, I might have won."

"Please, Weasley, I think I can hold my alcohol better than you."

"Really? Then why do I remember more than you?" she retorted smugly.

Draco opened and closed his mouth wordlessly, then a smirk fastened on his lips. "Well, now we know how I ended up in your bed: you took advantage of me."

Ginny's cheeks lit up with an angry glow. "I most certainly did not!"

He waved his finger patronisingly at her. "Now, Weasley, you can't have it both ways. You say you can hold your alcohol better than me, then clearly _you_ were the one who took advantage of me in my poor drunken state. I bet you dragged me here and then forced me to have sex with you." He sniffed haughtily. "I most certainly wouldn't have come willingly."

"Don't flatter yourself, Malfoy. I wouldn't take advantage of you even if you were the last man on earth and I was so desperate for a shag that I started having an orgasm just thinking about it."

"Then how did I end up in your bed?" he responded serenely, clasping his hands behind his head.

"I don't know, but it most certainly wasn't because of me."

"That's not what our lack of clothing says."

Her eyes narrowed. "You know, for someone who supposedly hates me, you seem to be enjoying yourself quite a bit."

"Oh, dry up, Weasley. So we had sex, big deal." He shrugged. "It's not like it's the end of the world. Besides, we can't even remember it, so you can always just imagine it never happened if it bothers you so much."

Ginny gave an inelegant snort. "It's a bit hard to do that, especially with you sprawling out on my bed like some Greek statue. Honestly, Malfoy, you could at least _try_ to cover yourself with something."

A slow smile curved his lips. "Why, feeling flustered?"

"Hardly," she said with another snort. "With this hangover, I'm more inclined to vomit all over you."

"Well, that's a turn on," he muttered, hauling himself to a sitting position, though his expression suggested he expected no less from her. "Fetch me my clothes then."

"Fetch them yourself," Ginny retorted. "I'm not your house-elf."

"Of course you're not. I don't shag my house-elves. That's just sick."

"Would you stop talking about shagging!" Ginny exclaimed, and then regretted it immediately as her head gave a nasty throb.

She groaned in pain, which was harmonised by Draco's own moan of displeasure. He collapsed against the bed and shoved a pillow over his face, and Ginny, who was suddenly feeling very queasy, decided that lying back down didn't sound like such a bad idea.

"No more shouting, Weasley," Draco mumbled from behind the pillow. "I'll knock you out, I swear I will."

"Okay, Malfoy," Ginny murmured, huddling into a ball next to him, still with the sheet wrapped around her. "No more shouting."

They both took a deep breath, and then there was silence.

Half an hour later, the curtains were thrown back, allowing far too much evil sunlight into the room. Then someone began shrieking unintelligible nonsense at the two of them. Draco and Ginny both groaned in unison, hissing and covering their eyes like vampires about to turn to dust as they tried to ward off the sunlight and the painful voice. To Ginny, she almost felt like she would combust if she had to put up with it another second.

"Curtains. Close!" she rasped, mimicking Draco by hiding her face under the pillow.

Draco then told the person in no uncertain terms to leave now before he hexed the idiot into a million pieces and then fed those pieces to his family peacocks. Neither he nor Ginny bothered to inform their intruder that the blond did not have his wand to carry out this threat, but both thought it a fitting fate for interrupting their darkened room of despair.

Unfortunately, the intruder was not to be dismissed so easily.

"Ginevra Molly Weasley, what in Merlin's name are you doing with that git?"

"No," Ginny moaned unhappily. "It's Ron."

And Ron meant screaming. Lots of screaming.

"Make it stop," Draco whined, still hiding his face under the pillow, desperately trying to ignore the way the male redhead's voice got louder and louder with each word.

"Are you even listening to me?" Ron bellowed.

Draco and Ginny both winced. They shared a pained look under the safety of their pillows, and then Ginny noticed that her wand was sticking out from her pillowslip. She had no idea how it had got there, but she wasn't about to complain.

Taking a firm hold of her wand, Ginny swung around to face her brother and wasted no time in casting a silencing charm. Ron blinked, opening and closing his mouth like a fish, but no words came out. Ginny smiled with evil satisfaction and then used her wand to send him from the room, closing the door behind him and locking it with every magical security spell she knew. Then she shut the curtains again, blocking out the sunlight.

"That's better," she mumbled.

Draco made a muffled sound of agreement and then, after a moment of silence, risked lifting his face away from the pillow to look at her. "You know, this would be a lot easier if you had some hangover cure."

Ginny groaned. "I completely forgot about that! I'm sure I have some in my cupboards somewhere."

Holding the sheet securely against her body, she slipped off the bed and then set about removing all the security wards from the door again. Ron was still outside, and he wasted no time in ranting at her, but since the silencing charm was still in effect, it really made no difference to Ginny. She brushed past him, pausing only to tell him to piss off, before going into her bathroom and rummaging frantically through her cupboards. She almost cried in delight when she saw the hangover cure.

"Finally," she whispered reverently, and then took three spoonfuls of the potion, as required. It tasted foul, but she could feel her hangover easing after a few seconds.

Conscious of the blond still metaphorically dying on her bed, she raced back to her bedroom with the potion – once again pausing to tell Ron to go away, and this time making sure he actually did so (it was quite difficult to remain in one place when there were giant, flapping bogies chasing after one). Draco greeted her with open relief, snatching the potion greedily from her hands and downing a large quantity.

"You only need three spoonfuls," Ginny scolded.

"Don't care," he responded, handing the potion back to her, then let out a deep sigh of contentment as his hangover began to fade.

Ginny sat down next to him on the bed. "So what do we do now?"

Draco frowned, then looked her up and down. "Well, we could always have sex."

"Excuse me?"

He shrugged. "It seems a waste to have sex with someone and then not remember it."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "No. Absolutely not."

"It's just sex, Weasley."

"It's not just sex, it's—it's—"

Draco raised an eyebrow, waiting expectantly for her grand declaration. Ginny let out an irritable huff and clutched the sheet tighter to her body.

"I'm not having sex with you, alright. I don't even _like_ you."

"You don't need to like someone to have sex with them," Draco pointed out reasonably. "Prostitutes would never make a living if it worked that way."

Ginny glared at him. "Why are you so determined to have sex with me?"

A slow smile curved his lips and he leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a husky murmur. "Why are you so intent on not? Scared you might enjoy it?"

She blushed before she could even think to suppress the warmth rushing to her cheeks, and Draco took advantage of her momentary confusion to lean in even closer, his smile widening just a fraction before he pressed his lips to hers. Ginny was so taken aback that she forgot to push him away (or, at least, that is what she told herself later); indeed, as soon as his lips touched hers, a thrill of something deep and forbidden surged through her blood, and she relaxed in his embrace, revelling in his languid, intoxicating kisses, barely even realising when he started gently unravelling the sheet that covered her nakedness.

By the time he had removed the sheet, the agonising yearning burning through her body demanded that any rational thought she had left, such as telling the blond to leave, be put aside for the moment. Indeed, her body was so attuned to the plucking of Draco's playing that she was already feeling little shocks of pleasure at the slightest touch, and all but begged him to take her then and there.

Needless to say, Draco obliged, and Ginny was not disappointed with her decision to recreate the memory the Firewhisky had stolen from them.

It was when she woke up naked for the second time next to the blond that she realised one crucial problem: they actually never did have sex last night.

Ginny's eyes narrowed. "I'm going to kill Blaise."


End file.
